Don't You, Forget About Me
by ChaosGamer
Summary: Shokuhou Misaki, desperate to have her Touma back, pushes her own mind and body beyond her control to restructure his brain. But at what cost? / Shokuhou x Touma. Contains Railgun spoilers, NT11 spoilers, slight Astral Buddy spoilers, slight allusions to NT22, NT22R... bro, basically, her timeline is all over the place. Just jump in.
1. Yesterday

_BGM: "Yesterday" - The Beatles_

* * *

A Queen ought to keep up appearances.

That was her duty. Her imperative.

But she wouldn't be human to remain calm and in complete control at all moments...

Or, at the very least, that was the excuse she allowed herself to give.

Today... today,

Today was not a good day.

It was still morning. But it was already not a good day.

Everything felt... heavy. From the hair on her head to her bag on her side.

Times like this was when she lay down and commanded some of her clique members to fan her with with palm fronds. Alas, her spine was already aching; she overslept that day.

Such unfortunate atmosphere made her all the more despise this morning. Perhaps this was due to those beans she had for supper yesterday. They were not cooked to complete mush. Time to find that particular member of the clique who was responsible for that unprofessional mistake and make her consume as much éclair as possible in thirty seconds...

...

"..._Haa..._"

Sadly, at that moment, she was in no mental position to even toss such an idea as that around.

At that moment, she felt her mind being dragged more and more toward that urge to_ simply point her remote at her head and end it all._

It simply was awful... it was awful as to how depression could come upon her mind like that, in such a haste, like a thief.

Just like what happened to her _at that circular lake in that mountainous region of District 21._

That day also started out as awful on its own level.

Up until that day, she suffered through IDEAL.

Up until that day, she suffered through Dolly's death.

That day, she was tired of... simply everything she dealt with on daily basis. Oh yes; even her own clique.

It was ironic, really. She was the most terrifying Mind Controller there ever was, and yet...

...

Usually, she was vigilantly on guard against such snake-like moods of depression trying to coil around her mind.

Alas, the scale of events she went through–

* * *

_That clone DIED._

_I could not do a SINGLE thing for HER._

* * *

She felt her breath stitch in her throat.

_Calm,_ she told herself. _Calm..._

The scale of events she went through carried her higher up the hierarchy of stress she previously thought was not possible.

And, when such events were finally over and resolved, she allowed herself to relax.

Which was not entirely the most optimal decision to make.

When she de-pressed from such experiences, she became, for that time being, susceptible to such depressions that sneaked into her mind.

It was one thing to feel tired of all things, memories, relationships...

It was another to admit it, mentally, verbally.

And on that day, she did so. And her hand moved accordingly, her remote pressed against her temple, her finger right on the button. One click, and she would regress back to her younger, more innocent self. How alluring, that preposition, that possibility!

She couldn't, and did not stop herself.

But he did.

Her Prince.

He stopped her.

...

The roller-coaster, having went as down as it could go, began to go back up.

After she met him, tons of events occurred.

They dipped in a pool. He used hypnotism on her.

He gave her his silver whistle.

...

Alas, roller-coasters always go back down.

To think she was naïve enough to believe that her happy-go-lucky days with him would last for some time.

To be honest, if it weren't for her, there was no reason for him to have gone to such brink of death as he did, while he was attempting to protect her.

...

Then, she met him again in Daihaseisai.

Then, she met him again right in her territory, School Garden.

Then, she met him again after she fought Mental Stinger.

...

To be really honest, the feelings that raced through her mind at that moment are, in the end, mere rehashes of the feelings she contended against with herself back when she fought Mental Stinger, and even before then.

But, to be also honest, she did this on a _daily basis._

She was strong. There was no doubt about that. Even to this day, even to this moment, the mere _fact_ that he will never, _ever_, remember her still sat on top of her head. A gigantic boulder, that was. It slowly crushed her spine day by day.

But, she still survived. She held on tight to all she had now: her memories.

Her memories of him.

That was enough for her to always have the strength to stop herself from pressing her remote to her own temple ever again.

...

A Queen ought to keep up appearances.

That was her duty. Her imperative.

But she would be lying if she said it wasn't difficult.

...

"Oh?"

Shokuhou smiled.

"Well, if it isn't Misaka-san..."

Good. She was in a mood to tease someone. Might lift her spirits.

Ah, that look of wonderfully droll expression of distaste on her face when she finally saw her walking near!

"Miii-saa-kaa-saan..." Shokuhou smiled like an imp as she walked ever closer to her.

A sigh was all Mikoto gave in response, as she did not stir an inch from her position on the brick wall of the building she was leaning upon, her arms crossed.

"...Really?" She muttered under her breath.

"You seem unhappy to see me! That wounds deeply, Misaka-san." Shokuhou pouted.

"Apparently not deep enough..."

"How rude! I, for my part, am _very_ happy to see you, Misaka-san." Shokuhou mock-glared.

"Is that so..." Mikoto grimaced.

To be really honest, attempting to hold a conversation with such a snake-like person like Shokuhou felt like a waste of time.

But, nevertheless, she gave her best attempt to be cordial.

"It's rare to see you venturing outside."

"Well, I felt a little under the weather today. I thought a walk in this fair morning may do the trick."

"So you're feeling 'flabby', in other words. Well, you have nothing to blame it on except for those useless lumps of flesh on your chest."

"Another rude assault! My assets are my treasures!"

Yep. That was it; her daily quota for public etiquette was reached... already tired of this conversation, Misaka only gave another grimace in response.

"How about you, Misaka-san?" Shokuhou picked the conversation up again, seeing the other girl's unwillingness to do so on her part. "What brings you outside this morning?"

Her response... was not what she expected.

Misaka bit her lower lip, and turned her face aside... possibly, due to embarrassment? Wah! She actually looked coy there!

Shokuhou frowned.

There was only one person she could think of that could make this tigress, this Misaka-san behave as such–

"Took a bit of time there. Sorry about that."

...

That voice.

...

No.

Not today.

Could she get a break, only for today?

But that was not to be. She could not force herself to not turn her head to the source of that voice, and see–

Her hero standing there.

Kamijou Touma.

...

She should have stayed in school today, out of all days.

She really ought to have stayed in school today.

In other times, in other moments, she had higher mental fortitude. Higher mental guard around her own mind, enough to completely conceal _how she gritted her teeth enough for them to gnash while introducing herself to him all over again._

Today...

...

Again, did he look at her as if seeing her for the first time.

Again, did that questioning gaze of his wash over her heart like a slosh of hard liquor.

Time to reintroduce herself all over again.

Right in front of Railgun. Nice. Pathetic.

Very nice.

_Inhumane._

"Misaka-san," Shokuhou smiled. "I pray thee, introduce me to this nice gentleman."

"...?"

To say Mikoto was bewildered... would not be saying much compared to her actual face expression at that moment. "Shokuhou, what–"

"Ah!" Shokuhou brightened up like a lightening bug. "This must be Kamijou-san you spoke to me about. _Pleased to meet you._"

"?!"

"I, uh," Touma hesitated, stumbling at this unexpected turn of events.

"I'm a friend of Misaka-san."

Usually, this was where she would latch onto Misaka-san's arm and do her signature pose with her hand and body.

But today... she wasn't feeling it.

"My name is Shokuhou Misaki!"

She felt her mind tipping... over the edge.

"I hope we can get along!"

Hell.

_Pure hell._

Well,

That was that.

That was all she could take at that moment.

Misaka-san's baffled expression.

Kamijou-san's nonplussed expression.

That was the last glimpse she had of them before she spun around and went on her way.

* * *

"Is this some sort of inside joke between you two?"

"...?"

For some reason, Mikoto became really frightening to Touma.

Her hair began to shimmy and float.

Terrifying sparks began to glow from her bangs.

"I... what?"

"I literally introduced her to you during Daihaseisai. _Why are you pretending not to know her?_"

"..." He didn't know what to say, really. He was completely clueless as to why she was suddenly getting this pissed off.

To be clear, Shokuhou wasn't really all that close to Mikoto.

To be clear, she wasn't all that concerned with Shokuhou's wellbeing. Shokuhou pissed her off more often than not.

But that doesn't mean _she didn't see those tears that fell from Shokuhou's chin as she walked away._

And she highly doubted that someone as proud and appearance-keeping like Shokuhou would go that far to pull such a prank on her thus.

She didn't understand this entire situation one bit.

But the sight of a girl, a girl as prideful as her, being wounded enough to shed tears in public...

That pissed her off.

"_Kamijou._"

That was a first. His name was something she never really uttered with her lips before. In all likelihood, she considered his name too intimate for her to utter out loud.

But, for this moment, she felt too angry to care.

"_I know you're not a rotten type of guy to ever make a girl cry like that. So how come you are pretending not to know her!?_"

"I–" Touma stuttered. "I'm lost. I don't know what's going on."

Then she saw it.

Fear.

Fear behind his eyes.

Because, to Touma, it may really be that he did once knew her.

When Mikoto referred to 'Daihaseisai', it was not like the one that took place a mere month or two before was the only Daihaseisai she could have been referencing.

There was another Daihaseisai the year before that. And the year before that. And a year before that. And so on.

It was very possible that Misaka introduced that honey-smelling girl to him during the Daihaseisai that took place a year before.

Which would have been before...

...

"...Ah," Mikoto's eyes widened.

She forgot.

He lost his memories.

If so...

...

She wasn't hundred percent sure as to what point his memory only goes back to, but _it was very possible that he doesn't even remember the very first interaction he had with Mikoto when they first met._

...

Just...

...

...Just what was going on here?

To _who_ exactly should she unleash her pent up anger upon?

* * *

Shokuhou didn't get very far.

She couldn't even last several minutes after walking away; her knees were the first to give out. Then she completely knelt over, her face mere inches from the earth on the ground.

If she was to cry,

She refused to let anyone see the tears.

A Queen ought to keep up appearances.

That was her duty. Her imperative.

But it felt _cursed._


	2. Ability Overload

It was now past lunch.

But, not a single bite did she eat so far today.

This was a great cause of concern for her clique members. Already did Junko approach her twice, begging her to eat.

Unfortunately, she didn't even have the energy to pretend to be listening to her.

...

Sorrow, having arrived, has now left.

And in its place, did gentle fury set in.

Her face, if she were of a common blood, would have appeared disdainful; but, as she was of queenly personage, it appeared savage enough to send men running in terror.

But such an expression would admittedly have been more impressive if it lasted for any considerable time. It took less than a minute for her mood to switch back to sorrow, then to resignation, then to listlessness, then to despondency, then to anger again, and then to despair.

She gave a weak laugh.

"Honestly..."

This... this felt pathetic.

If only she took a glance at herself at that moment! Her eyes were half shut. Dark circles were under them. Her shoulders drooped over her knees she hugged at that moment.

...

Nights like this was the worst, Shokuhou reflected.

The despair she felt at the unyielding fact she faced – that he would never, ever remember her – seemed to create this deep, fractured hole within her heart; the mental pain she felt at that moment made her very bones grow cold.

Usually, in the past, in particularly unstable moments such as these that began to recur after she lost him, she continued to tell herself that she would feel better if she only persevered through that particular night. Which wasn't wrong; she did feel better the next morning.

But today... today felt exceptionally difficult to survive through.

...

Maybe this was her expiation.

(Thus did guilt finally appear and set itself in that fractured hole).

No one could deny how poetic it was; the one with strongest psychological ability longed after _someone who would never remember her._

She was raised in a bad environment, true, and used that as an excuse to herself to never really trust anyone else, to not be reserved about using her power on anyone else...

But how could she use that as an excuse to convince others to excuse her of her actions, when she couldn't even make that argument seem convincing even to herself?

She always put it upon herself to take full responsibility for the wellbeing of those under her permanent control...

But was it not painfully obvious that such measures, even if they were not mere burdens to assuage her of her iniquity, were made only to offer some sort of insubstantial compensation for forcefully placing them under her control?

...

The absurd cruelty of this entire situation, the balance of suffering exacted by her and exacted upon her... made her teeth gnash.

Dwelling on the 'why' was never a good idea, and she knew that well enough. But she didn't feel strong enough to resist doing so.

...

It was way past curfew. All others in the dorm slept quietly at peace.

All except for her.

That wasn't to say they easily fell asleep. For over an hour or two they all fretted at this drastically concerning state of their Queen until they each succumbed to their drowsiness.

But she alone could not sleep. With her arms still hugging her legs, she continued to be still in that position, way past midnight.

Then, as this onset of depression waved back and forth, to and fro in her mind, once more did the unyielding aspect of her queenly personality also rise up from within herself in a wave of calm fury.

A Queen ought to keep up appearances.

That was her duty. Her imperative.

She refused to live the rest of her days wallowing in her self-pity, thus.

Come now - she told herself, - there ought to be something she could do here... some method she had not tried in her past few attempts at curing him of that accursed condition. There ought to be _something_ in her disposal she could use to overcome this tragedy she was struck with...

And so she sat and waited, thinking.

...

Perhaps... it was time to review all knowledge she collected over her life.

In other words, Mind Palace.

A method employed by celebrated cerebrals in the past in order to amass great quantities of information for good within their minds.

Fine with her. It was not like she was falling asleep any time soon.

* * *

...

...

...

Times like this gave her a severe reminder as to exactly why she propped up Tokiwadai Middle School as her safe-haven, her honeycomb with her worker bees at her side, mighty reluctant to venture outside.

It was precisely because situations became like _this_ whenever she ventured to go too far in an outside setting.

She was in a cafe.

The said cafe, though, was way too quiet and at peace for a midday.

That was because _every person in this cafe was currently unconscious._

The waitresses.

The patrons.

Even _that spiky-haired boy._

...

Passersby observing the cafe as they went along their day may notice something wrong with it.

And, in consequence, they may attempt to approach and get in into the cafe.

Unfortunately, anyone attempting to actually do so would immediately get a strong urge to _simply disregard their concern about that cafe and move on to their daily business._

It was clear as day that she meant business here. It was out of character for her to be this obtrusive in her display of power unto the outside world. But right now, she was too desperate to care.

She was running out of time.

She could feel _it_ continuing to ebb away her body in multiple places.

...

So,

What occurred that resulted in this frightful outcome?

Back when her body still sat on her bed, with her arms around her knees, her mind was deep within herself, exploring her Mind Palace.

It was a gorgeous honeycomb, shining like liquid gold. A veritable palace of hexagons.

Within every nook and cranny of her palace were pretty much all the information she considered important enough to store, from the name of the city her parents first met to the three sizes of all the members of her clique.

And, while within that palace, she began to roam all over the place to examine various physical objects, all representing different parts of her memory. She began to recount the events in her life, one by one, seeking to come across any information that could possibly help her.

From beginning to the present day, she had come across some bizarre information and bizarre minds in regards to science and technology.

And she paused at that critical point where Shokuhou took over the minds of all scientists that were part of the Clone Dolly Workshop, after the death of...

...

...And within the minds of those scientists, she remembered coming across a particularly... _intriguing_ existence of a certain substance.

Body Ability Crystals, they called it.

And just like that, Shokuhou's mind wandered into that dangerous realm of thought.

Body Ability Crystals were, simply put, refined secretions that were taken from brains of Espers whose powers went out of control.

When an Esper's ability went out of control, it was found that a variety of secretions in unusual amounts were collected within their cerebral cortex. Those secretions, when taken out and refined, resulted in what she held in her hand mere moments before: a white powdery substance.

If... she were to consume even a tiniest bit of that powder... her powers would, of course, run out of control, but that additional boost of power may give her just a bit of an additional edge needed for her to, perhaps, completely restructure a part of his brain, to fix him of that condition he was in...

She still needed to figure out a way to use her ability in a permanent matter where even his _right hand_ would not be able to reverse any changes she might make, but in any case...

It was a hilariously dangerous idea, all things considered. Her ability had to do with controlling moisture, within and without one's body. If her powers went out of control at a significant level, everything around her could have their moisture stripped from them and be turned into powder like papier-mâché...

...

This plan that began to form in her head back then was, to reiterate, rather insane and idiotic.

But she was long past the point of considering logic and common sense.

When you had nothing, you had nothing to lose.

By planning to obtain and use something as dangerous as the Ability Body Crystal, Shokuhou had everything to lose.

Losing it all just it be with him...

Well..

So be it.

...

Initially, Shokuhou contemplated the idea of sending out one of her clique members to get a hold of such a material.

But then she immediately rejected that thought. She didn't like the idea of putting any of them in danger.

Besides, she wanted to do this right. Which meant taking this task into her own hands.

Going further, on hindsight, doing the legwork of obtaining some of that substance herself was, while rather risky and tiring, was nothing overly complicated. Such substance was not really even readily available in scientific laboratories, and those were a pain to infiltrate without leaving footprints behind... no, all she had to do was to merely venture into certain districts more predisposed to host individuals affiliated with the Dark Side of this City, and to merely force them to hand over a gram or two...

She was pretty well past the point of common sense, at any rate, as anyone can plainly see by this haphazard thought process of her.

...

So there she was in that cafe, with a small anthill of that crystallized white power on the palm of her white-gloved hand.

...

Fear.

She felt fear, while continuing her gaze upon that white, powdery substance.

She took a moment then and there to briefly examine herself, to examine her life up until that point.

Really, she needed an adult. A proper adult to intervene in critical moments such as these; to smack her hand aside, scattering such substance over the ground; to give her a stern talk as to how... well, 'incorrectly' she was living her life at that moment.

It was a shame, because she never really had a parent figure, growing up. She never saw her parents. Or, at the very least, (ironically), she never remembered seeing them.

Maybe...

If that spiky-haired boy,

Who sat on that chair a mere yard or two away from her, unconscious,

Was standing by her side at that moment,

Being able to recognize, to remember who she was, being able to be at her side at all times,

Then could he certainly fulfill that role of a concerned and caring parent for her.

...

Shame.

...

...

...

Then the tip of her tongue touched the powdery white substance.

That was all she did.

Nothing more.

But even still,

It felt as if a _star_ exploded in a blaze of supernova in her mouth.

It felt like her head was three sizes too big for her skull.

It felt as if she could positively see brain waves.

It felt like– it felt like– it felt like–

Words! Words, words, words– they were unnecessary.

For a moment she stood still, her eyes wide as it can be, her mind attempting to cope with this drastic change that took place with the introduction of such a mixture of chemicals into her system.

...

She then took the bag she always carried around, gave it a sidelong glance of contempt, then chucked it aside with a savage yet numb expression.

She no longer had any use for those remotes.

Not anymore.

She stripped her white gloves from her hand and tossed them aside; she approached him even closer; she then latched the tips of her fingers onto that lovable spike of hair, as if preparing to give it an intense massage.

It was truly amazing, she thought. She could _feel_ every single neuron firing around in his head. It felt like her mind's eye was observing a busy city, one that did not sleep even during nighttime.

She already was one of the Level 5's of Academy City, the strongest mental power user there ever was, but this... this experience was simply on another level. Not even The Exterior gave her this sort of... euphoria of _control_. Why hadn't she done this sooner?

This... Body Ability Crystal... made her feel every mental part of all that she observed on an exceptionally visceral level. Her thoughts were finally so _free_ now. Free to _think._

And now, when she began to _think_... it didn't take more than a minute to arrive at some good, clear solutions she craved and sought after so much.

It was all oh-so laughably simple now. She must've been idiotically stupid to not have thought of this before. _The solution never was to 'cure' or 'fix' or 'heal' his brain in any way._ Such actions were futile; his right hand would negate it all anyway. Any supernatural force, destructive or not, were reduced to nothing upon coming in contact with his right hand. But his right hand didn't restore any destruction already committed by such supernatural forces. He couldn't repair objects once they were already shattered and broken. He couldn't fix his brain at that current state with his right hand, not matter how much he touched it.

The solution, then, was not to heal his brain, _but to merely damage it in a different manner._ All she had to do was to carefully restructure the pathways in his brain with irreversible damage.

And before she realized it, she was already doing precisely that.

To an outsider's perspective, all she was doing was to intently grapple his head with her fingers.

What they couldn't see was _a complete restructuring of multiple pathways in that spiky-haired boy's brain on a micometer level._

It was entirely possible that she couldn't fully grasp the amount of risk she was taking by messing with someone's brain on this level.

It was entirely possible that she was too far gone to give much concern to that at that present moment. As it was, she felt like she was threading needles the size of neuron cells.

...

She was running out of time.

She only licked a couple of grains of that substance, but she could already feel her mind and body threatening to completely shut down from damage already sustained. She was always rather physically weak.

But she couldn't let her mind shut down, not at this critical juncture of her current, quite literal, brain surgery.

..

At some point, she found herself on her knees, as they gave up from increasingly decreasing strength in her body. Fine with her; her head was now on same level as his. She longingly, lovingly pressed her forehead against the back of that spiky-haired head, and closed her eyes, letting her sweat on her skin mingle with his hair, her hands still intently latched onto his head.

Just one more neural pathway.

Just one more rewiring.

Just one more fix, which, in truth, was a roundabout inflict of damage.

Just...

one...

"–More..." She mumbled.

...

...

...

How much was enough?

How much alteration (read: damage) was enough to make his brain capable of recognizing, remembering her again?

Unfortunately... she had no way to check.

And before she could stop herself, to tell herself that it was finally enough,

She lost her consciousness.


End file.
